


The FAHC Sends Their Regards

by Blue_Kat, CaPowArsenic



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: All OCs die, Blood, Brutality, Game of Thrones References, Gavin-Gold(Nerd), Geoff-Ramsey, Jack-Overlord, Jeremy-Rimmy Tim, Michael-Mogar, Murder, Rating May Change, Ryan-Vagabond, Technically Game of Thrones Spoilers?, gore (technically?), not sorry, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 04:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Kat/pseuds/Blue_Kat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaPowArsenic/pseuds/CaPowArsenic
Summary: FAHC has been hired by the mother of the bride to assassinate the groom and leave the wife alive. Everyone just assumes the quiet dude in the corner wearing dad jeans must be from the other side of the wedding party...Until all hell breaks loose!





	The FAHC Sends Their Regards

**Author's Note:**

> So this all started because while working a wedding (where I set up event lighting) it had started down pouring and the wedding had to be moved indoors, and as I was watching the wind whip chairs around and knock things down, my head went to "It looks abandoned...." and my mind went off from there! Sooo enjoy that! 
> 
> Thanks to Blue_Kat for helping me with details and helping me move the story when I got stuck. You are a hero for putting up with my lack of description! <3
> 
> I also want to thank my friend Tayla for being my beta/ editor! They are a life saver!

It was a spring wedding in the late afternoon. A large white wooden fence surrounded the garden, boxing in the event space with bushes and twinkle lights. At the end of each seated aisle, large white candles were placed, glowing a sweet amber glow. White rose petals dusted the grass in small groups. The seats were full of close family and friends dressed in their best attire. On either side of the aisle, they sat in white wooden folding chairs set up for them. 

Only ten minutes remained before the wedding would begin. 

“Everyone’s here and has a program. It’s about to start. I see Eric at the end of the aisle just waiting for you.” The bridesmaid cheered with excitement looking out from the window into the garden. The bride looked in the mirror with a smile and then looked back at her mother, who held a straight face. 

“Mother I know you and Eric don't always see eye to eye, but I'm so happy you agreed to come for our special day!” The girl said with a large smile. The mother smiled back. 

“Oh Anna dear, I wouldn't miss this for the world.” 

An unmarked van pulled up in front of the wedding venue and parked putting on its hazards. A large, brown haired, long bearded man stepped out of the van in a sharp black and white suit and straightened his green tie as he spoke into the mic beneath it. 

“Alright, boys the van is in place.” He said into the comms. “How're everyone's positions coming?” The man's gruff voice could be heard statically over the ear pieces of two men dressed as waiters who waited in the empty staff room.

“Team Nice Dynamite is in position.” Replied the auburn haired boy with the Jersey accent. 

“Michael and I are ready to go, Jack!” Michael shot the blonde British boy a pissed off look as the brit typed on his phone, taking control of the venue’s security footage, turning the recording feature off so only he could access the live feed of the cams. He tucked the phone away and looked back up to meet Michael’s glare.

“Gavin! I just said that! And use the goddamn code names!” Michael hissed harshly. The man named Jack rolled his eyes at the two bickering over communications.

“It’s Overlord damn it! Mogar and Gold cut the shit! Just stick to the code names!” He grumbled back through the coms. He was trying to act normal; as normal as one could be without looking like he was talking to himself. “Rimmy you ready?” 

“Rimmy Tim is ready to go!” The Bostonian cheered into his com. “I know I didn't have to, but I even dressed for the occasion!” He beamed fluffing his purple suit jacket and then fixing his orange tie. “I haven't had a chance to wear this baby in years.” The man in the purple and orange suit looked through the sniper scope once more. “Hey Vagabond! Where’s your suit? Ya know it's bad manners to wear jeans to a wedding!” He scolded. “Are those dad jeans again?!” There was a loud sigh on the other end of the coms. 

“They’re not dad jeans!” The blonde haired man growled back into the coms. “They’re comfy!” He added with a pout. The group was snickering from the other end. “Besides, a tux isn't needed for such a simple job.” The Vagabond let out a huff. “This dress shirt and tie is enough torture.” The man mumbled fixing his black and red striped tie, so it hung lower and pulled the collar of the shirt up. “I don't do fancy.”  The man-child whined. “At least I have my mask ready.” He added in a matter-of-fact tone, patting his jacket pocket.

He had rested his  jacket on the back of his chair. Surprisingly no one would sit near him. ‘Probably from the other side of the family.’ they must have thought. Before he could say another word, a man with a classic curly cued mustache in a neat black suit and white dress shirt came up behind the pouting blonde. 

“Excuse me, sir, the event should be starting soon, so I'd recommend you take your place shortly.” He said and patted the man's back before walking off. “This is Ramsey, Vagabond and I are moving into positions now.” The man tipped his top hat to a guest as they passed. 

“This bog is nice as dicks! They’ve got the fancy bog roll and lavender scented soap! And classical music!” The Brit squawked into the ear piece in excitement. “This is some real luxury stuff, Geoff!”

“Gold focus!” Ramsey hissed through clenched teeth, smiling as he looked around at the guests. He fixed his black bow tie and let out a huff. “And for fuck's sake stop calling everyone by their fucking names! That's what code names are for you fuck!” Ramsey’s voice cracked by the time the sentence was finished. He cleared his throat and let out a sigh trying to compose himself. There was a squawk over the coms and then silence. Ramsey went to stand by the door to the back of the venue, where the wedding party was to enter and walk down the aisle. He checked his watch, noting the time, then looked back at the family and friends of the couple. It was a shame they had to witness this. 

“Alright boys, remember M.O.B was very strict, groom dies before I Do’s, and the bride is to be left alone and unharmed.” Overlord spoke up.

“M.O.B? What the bloody hell does that mean?” Gold questioned. Mogar punched his arm. 

“It means mother of the bride you dumbass!” 

“Oh!” He frowned. “Her own mother set a contract on the bird’s fiancé?” he asked.

“Apparently he’s not well liked in the family, and they want to make a statement.” Rimmy chimed in watching through the scope. “Still fucked up if you ask me.”

Overlord rolled his eyes “It may be fucked up, but it's our job. Five minutes til show time.” Overlord had made his way to Ramsey, taking his place on the other side of the door. 

“Groom dies before Ramsey does, got it.”

“Ryan you fucking-”

“Shut up!” Overlord hissed. They were getting a few odd looks as people entered. They weren’t supposed to draw attention to themselves. Talking to thin air would absolutely do that.

The wedding party took their seats, and a general hubbub filled the room. The groom stood by the Justice of the Peace, wringing his hands nervously. She gave him a comforting smile; she’d probably seen far more nervous than him.

“He’s sweating bloody bullets!”

“Gold hush! Radio silence until go time!” Rimmy hushed.

“Fine…Where’s the bloody bride?” Gold looked down at his large gold watch. It was far too lavish to fit into a waiter's background, but he refused to take it off before the heist started. He was still the Golden Boy after all, even if he found his new nerdier calling being behind a screen. Gold had recently gone from the smooth talking and negotiations to sweet talking computers into doing his bidding. Even though he changed, he couldn't lose all of the glitzy gold, holding onto a few of his favorite pieces. 

“It’s tradition for the bride to be slightly late, dumbass,” Mogar chimed in with a groan.

Slightly late turned out to be twenty minutes, the poor groom didn’t look like he could take much more. And then the music swelled, and the room fell silent with anticipation, as the bride walked through the door in all her magnificent raiment. The arm linked with the bride was clearly her mother, nose up and a smug smile on her face. It could perhaps be excused for satisfaction, except the Fakes knew how much she hated the groom. She’d hired them to kill him, after all.

“Her dress doesn’t bloody fit right!”

“It looks tailored to her, how does a corset top gown not fit?”

“Not the bride Ryan the bloody mother's dress!”

“Okay, I agree with that one.”

It was true. Although a mercifully muted pink in color, the shape was far from flattering. It was too big at the shoulders and far too tight in the behind. 

“She look’s like a french fancy,” Gold giggled as the sound of Vagabond grunting his agreement passed over the comms. The bridesmaids were thankfully a better fit in their dresses, form fitting instead of whatever attempt had been made to “accentuate” the mother’s shape.

“There are no kids at this wedding,” Mogar commented, taking notice.

“None on the bride’s side.” Gold replied his eyes scanned his phone in his hand.  “From the tongue wagging going on, bride’s mum threw a hissy fit at the idea of the groom’s family’s kids being here. Said they’d ruin the wedding.”

“Well, at least she didn’t let them witness what’s about to happen,” Vagabond said with a sigh under his breath.

“How do you even pick up all this shit?” Mogar questioned the brit impressed but also surprised by his outside knowledge surrounding the contract. Gold smirked at Mogar.

“I have my talents boi. It’s what I do.” There was another groan from Overlord. 

“Shut up!”

“Gold, your doohickey to stop phones from making calls ready?” Geoff asked. Gold chuckled and slid the bar curtain back a bit revealing a small black box with an antenna poking out the top, the lights all blinking green. 

“The jammer is ready. I have to wait for as soon as the shot is fired before I can turn it on or else it'll look suspicious.”

Rimmy had his eye on the scope watching the wedding from his sniper spot, only able to hear the vows through the open coms. “You know, I never realized how boring wedding vows could be. I mean I get it, it's forever, and you’ll love each other til the end of time blah blah blah.” 

Ryan let out a grunt; he was getting antsy. “They do seem to be taking a while.”

“Jeremy will you focus!” Jack hushed.  

“I am! I’m just bored. It’s lonely out here… I’m all alone.” Jeremy pouted.

“There’s no one here besi-” Geoff smirked and chimed in.

“We are not doing this! Rimmy, focus, it’s almost go time.” Jack growled into the communicators. 

“Fine, fine.” He said with a sigh. 

He settled back down. The grass was damp, but his suit kept most of the cold out. Geoff was absolutely paying his dry cleaning bill. It was going to be a tough shot; the bride was almost as tall as the groom, he only had a narrow window of head to hit. Easy enough. Even if he did fuck up, it was a low cal sniper rifle, after impacting the groom’s skull it would lose all momentum and ping around his brain tissue until it was mush. They would make their escape easily as Jack and Geoff would barricade the door while the rest of the team made their way to the getaway van where Jeremy would meet back up with them and they would ride off into the sunset, contract completed and money wired over. Jeremy fired the shot.

A glass shattering shriek was heard.

“My daughter! You fuckers!”

“Fuck! Jeremy! Did you just shoot the fucking bride too?!” Geoff asked dumbfounded.

“S-she went for a sudden kiss! You don't kiss before you say I Do! He was still finishing his vows! I thought I had time!” the Bostonian rambled on panicked. 

Screaming and crying could be heard over the coms as panic and confusion filled the garden. 

“Those Fake fuckers killed my dear Anna!” The mother of the bride was screaming, crying out over her daughter’s body. 

“Gav the doohickey!” Geoff ordered.

“Already did it, Geoffrey. I  _ know _ how to do _ my  _ job.”

Jeremy frowned, hurt by Gold’s jab at him. Although Gavin had gone soft geeky hacker on them, that golden tongue of his could easily still do damage.  

“We just lost the contract! And now she’s ratting us out!” Jack hissed in frustration.

“Ok, someone. Kill her. Please.” Geoff grumbled.

“Aye aye. Bye bye bitchy M.O.B!” Jeremy cheered popping the woman in the head, silencing her screams. 

“Good job Jeremy. You _ actually _ did your job right this time.” 

Jeremy let out a growl watching them through the scope. Gold always knew how to push his fellow crew members buttons. 

“Gavin. Cut the golden tongue shit already.” Michael hissed lightly punching the Brit. Gavin let out a startled squawk and shook his head.

“Sorry Lil J. Didn't mean to,” Gavin said with a sigh. 

“Plan B boys.” The Vagabond said, emotionless. He had pulled his mask out, swiftly putting it on and took out his hidden handgun, cocking it. “No survivors.” Team Nice Dynamite looked at each other both letting out a chuckle.

“Well, boi I guess you were right I owe you fifty dollars after all.” The Brit spoke up.

“You guys bet on me fucking up the shot?!” Jeremy yelped.

“Wot? Oh no Lil J neverrr,” the Brit replied pulling the fifty dollar bill, handing it off to a smirking Michael. “Right! Time for Plan B my boi!” Quickly pulling the drapes back from the bar back, Gavin revealed Michael’s favorite weapon of choice, his minigun. 

“Awww fuck yeah.” The Jersey boy grunted and pulled the gun out. It was a beautiful matte black 6-barrel minigun that Michael called his baby.

“Just block the doors. We’ll handle this.” Michael commanded. Michael came from behind the bar, minigun in hand. Gavin followed close behind for back up, his favorite gold handgun ready to defend Michael. As if he really needed it though.

Geoff and Jack quickly slammed the doors, jamming a broom through the handles. It forced the door to get stuck when anyone tried to open it. Michael was let loose, as he sprayed down the wedding guests with thousands of rounds, painting the white fence red with their blood. Gavin chuckled, watching guests try to call 911 begging for help, the call unable to go through. Ryan took shots at anyone near him, yelling no survivors while cackling maniacally. A few stray guests tried to run to the door, only to find that it wouldn’t budge, Jack and Geoff had begun to barricade it already. Of course, soon after that Jeremy would snipe them from his position. 

“ _ Poor unfortunate souls _ ,” Jeremy sang softly.

“ _ In pain, _ ” Ryan sang back. He pulled a knife from somewhere on his person; a woman cried out as the Vagabond slit her throat.

“ _ In need _ ,” Jeremy continued taking another clean shot of a guest attempting to run from Ryan.

“Guys seriously! Stop singing already!” Jack snapped at the Battle Buddies while helping Geoff keep weight on the door. 

 

“Get the rest of the guests while Jack and I clear a path out.”

“On it,” Michael stated mowing down basically anyone who was in his path. Jack pulled a handgun from his inside jacket pocket and looked over at Geoff who was doing the same. They nodded, and Geoff took off down the hall toward the exit, Jack watching his back as he left. Jack knew to stay behind and wait for the signal from Geoff when the coast was clear. Geoff gunned down anyone that turned into the hallway between him in the exit. Geoff must have gunned down at least half the staff on his own; the bloody bodies made some sort of fucked up breadcrumb trail for anyone who followed after to join him. Once he reached the front door, Geoff contacted Jack again.

“The hall has been cleared.” Geoff made his way back to Jack stepping over the bodies as he went. “Little more messy than usual.” He noted. Michael’s gun had mowed down the last of the guests as Geoff had reached the door. 

“You don’t even want to talk about messy! It’s an absolute bloodbath down there!” Jeremy chimed in, watching the massacre come to an end.

“You can open the doors,” Gavin called out over comms. Jack quickly moved the barricade with the help of Geoff. They walked into the back garden and audibly gasped. Geoff’s eyes scanned the bloody garden in awe, Michael’s minigun had mowed over everything in its path. The garden chairs that were once neatly placed in rows now thrown about, with bullet holes and blood covering them. The once white fence was now covered in sprays of blood, piles of bodies, hopeless souls, cornered in and left to die. Geoff let out a whistle.

“Well, plan B was executed perfectly. Great work boys! Jeremy, you can come down and join us now.” It took a couple of minutes for Geoff to realize Ryan was in the corner painting something in blood on the only bit of fence that wasn’t covered in red. Ryan stepped back, lifting his mask from his face to take in his newest art piece. The words The Fakes Send Their Regards with the crews signature logo, was written in the fresh blood of their victims. "Ryan what the fuck?!” Geoff croaked. Jack burst out laughing.

"I should have known! We should've never let him watch Game of Thrones! It just gave him ideas!" 

"Listen, George Martin is a genius. A psychopathic serial killer maybe, but a genius all the same." Ryan argued.

"Obviously he's still not over lady." Michael huffed with a smirk. 

“Nedd Stark chose his king over his daughter! Of course, I’m not over it!” Ryan hollered angrily, carelessly waving his knife around in the air.

"Oh god, you've bloody set him off now Micool!" Gavin chuckled. Geoff groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. Jeremy entered the garden, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder, taking in the view. 

“Jesus guys.” Jeremy said shaking his head with a laugh. “And I thought it looked bloody from where I was perched.” He huffed in awe.

“Guys…Ry… I just…” Jack groaned shaking his head unable to continue his train of thought. 

“Why the fuck did we waste time to eliminate everyone just for Ryan to put our name out there in blood?! Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of the cover up?!” Geoff asked, his voice higher, cracking at the end of the sentence. Everyone let out a laugh and looked over at Ryan.

“Eh fuck it. Who am I to do anything quietly anyway?” Ryan shrugged pulling the mask back down. “Plus it was so fun Geoff!”

“Creepy fucker,” Geoff grumbled. Ryan was smirking under his mask.

“But not wrong.” Jeremy chimed in with a chuckle playfully punching Ryan’s arm.

“Well if that’s the case! Let’s have some fun with this!” Gavin called pulling his phone out. He pressed a few buttons, turning the security cameras back on. Gavin controlled the camera, making it turn, recording the massacre, getting really cinematic with his shots. “Say, bumcheese lads!” Gavin cheered waving up at the venue’s security camera. Michael gave the camera the middle finger; minigun slung over his shoulder, Geoff crossed his arms putting on the signature Ramsey boss mode look, while Jack playfully leaned an elbow on Geoff’s shoulder, a large smirk on his face. Ryan held up his bloody knife, waving it while Jeremy blew a kiss toward the camera. 

“That was top boys! One to keep for the records!” Gavin called cheerfully looking back at the screenshot of the security footage on his phone.

“Alright. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Geoff chuckled patting his boys on the back. Another job done, FAHC style.

  
  


***

“This next story may be disturbing to some viewers.” The reporter stated. “ It was this afternoon that a beautiful Spring wedding had gone horribly wrong. 29-year-old Eric Morriss, local lawyer, and his bride, 25-year-old Anna Brewer, heir to the Brewer family’s business, Brewer’s Jewelry, were shot dead. Mother of the bride Grace Brewer, owner of the multi-million dollar company was found dead along with their 200 guests. The infamous Fake Achievement Hunter Crew were seen in the following security footage. The following video is gruesome and is not for the faint of heart or stomach.” 

Gavin’s video played on the TV of the apartment, the crew cheering and patting each other on the backs as they saw the footage of the massacre on the news. They chuckled watching themselves on TV mocking the police with their greeting card styled video. The crew happily enjoyed pizza and bevs, celebrating their unsuccessful yet somehow successful mission. 

“To a fucked up job well done boys!” Geoff cheered raising his beer. The crew joined in raising their beverages of choice, hooting and hollering. 

“To the Fakes!” They yelled triumphantly. 

**Author's Note:**

> I blame The Molotov Cocktales discord chat for making my mind slowly become a corrupt and dark place. I love you all but god damn, I use to be an innocent- Yeah ok I couldn't even finish that sentence! Haha! But no for real, thanks to Blue and Tayla and the lovely people in Molotovs who helped me out with this idea! <3
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! Leave a comment or a kudos if you like! :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
